Looks Like You Cleaned Everybody Out, Fella
by gralorgstair
Summary: Things have changed between the Brothers Winchester. All thanks to a certain angel...


"Well, Looks Like You Just About Cleaned Everybody Out, Fella."  
Pairing: Gen. I suppose you could look at it as Sam/Dean or mild Dean/Castiel if you wanted, but for once, it's mean to be Gen.  
Rating: PG  
Author: lj user"godownswingin"/ lj user"bleu-eyed-ace"  
Summary: Things have changed between the brothers. All thanks to the dear ol' angel…  
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. If Supernatural, the boys, or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid belonged to me, God, would I be a happy woman… :D

A/N: Just a quickie because I'm starting to write again. It just popped into my head this afternoon in class and I figured what a great way to get back into the swing of things. And—I LOVE Castiel. I really do. I just really liked the idea and direction of this fic. Also, the title is a line from the very beginning of Butch and Sundance where a guy the Kid is playing in poker accuses him of cheating.

Enjoy!

Comments are love. Just no flaming, please!

_"Well, Looks Like You Just About Cleaned Everybody Out, Fella"_

Sam knew he shouldn't feel jealous. But he was. He just _was_. He knew Dean and Castiel had become close because, well, truthfully? Castiel _birthed_ Dean.

The Angel had become a second father to Dean- caring for him, praising him, reprimanding him- and Dean took it all in stride. Dean loved it. It was like he had his father back.

Sam took it all with a grain of salt.

Sam couldn't stand it. The way Dean looked at Castiel as if he were… well, God. For Christ's sake, the guy was only an _angel_. He _wasn't_ God. He wasn't _Christ_. He was an angel…

The man… _angel_… took care of Dean like a father would. Actually, the way _Sam_ would. Sam took care of Dean. Sam cleaned, stitched, and bandaged Dean's wounds. Sam was the one who threw an arm around Dean's shoulders and helped him through the door after a hard night. Sam was the one who sat next to Dean at the bars and made sure he didn't get into too much trouble. Sam was the one who drove the Impala back to the motel room when Dean had been beaten unconscious.

Sam hadn't done any of that for two months. He didn't spend much time with Dean anymore unless they were hunting and even then they didn't see much of each other. Sam simply couldn't stand being around Castiel. He couldn't watch as Castiel took Sam's place in his brother's heart.

But for all Sam's doubts and for all his jealously he didn't think he'd ever been more grateful to someone, to _something, _in his entire life. He had his brother back. His other half. And it was thanks to the guy sitting next to his brother on the bed as they watched an old classic. Well, he didn't necessarily know if he had his brother _back_. But Dean was back on earth. He was out of hell. He was fucking _alive_.

Sam sat on the other bed, preoccupied with his thoughts and his journal, but he could still hear everything. Dean and Castiel were watching "Patton", one of Dean's favorites. Sam liked it, yeah, but not as much as Dean. Sam always thought it was because General Patton reminded Dean of their dad. Sam watched Patton give a few more orders, watched Dean's face light up as he mouthed the words along with the general. He shook his head and smiled a bit, looking at the smile on his brother's face and then returning to his writing.

Sam listened to the beginning of the Cialis commercial before the familiar 'click' sounded and the channels were changing, one right after the other.

Sam's head snapped up a few minutes later when he heard the familiar: "Someone count. One, two, three, go!" As Paul Newman's voice cut across the room.

"Onetwothreego!"

There it was.

Redford's voice, too. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid"- Sam almost couldn't believe it. At first he was excited, pleased that his and Dean's favorite movie was on, but then he heard Dean start laughing.

"Oh, man! Dude, this is the best movie ever. Oh, it's great. Castiel, you're gonna love this!" Dean yelled, clapping the angel on the shoulder, rubbing his hands together, and staring intently at the screen.

There was no way. Sam closed his eyes, tried to clear his mind, but found he couldn't. He felt the anger well up in him from the very depths of his soul. Since they were kids, the one thing, the _one_ thing he and Dean had bonded over was Butch and Sundance.

Sometimes when they were younger they'd watch Butch and Sundance rob a couple banks and when the movie would go off or when Dad would make them turn it off they'd run to the back room making shooting noises at each other and laughing wildly.

When they grew older they'd still sit on the bed or the ratty couch together, both with a knife and an empty gun and rattle off the lines from the movie. Dean was Butch, of course, and Sammy, the Kid.

When they grew into their teen years and things got bad Dean would look over at Sam, cleaning his guns or polishing his knives, and say: "Hey, Kid, why don't we go someplace like Bolivia."

Sam's ears would perk up and the hunch would go out of his shoulders as he turned to look at his brother: "You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at."

They'd chuckle at that for a bit and wish the movie was on, wish they could be somewhere other than another musty motel, and just as soon as it started, the moment would fade and they'd go back to silently cleaning their guns or researching.

Sam felt himself going red in the face as he heard Dean ask Castiel if he knew about the movie. Felt the heat welling in his body as Castiel replied, no, he didn't. Sam's fist was clenched so hard he felt his stubby nails digging half-moons into his palm as he heard Dean explain to the angel the premise of the movie. Sam was struggling to keep quiet as Dean told Castiel he knew he'd love the movie. Told him about Redford and Newman…

Sam couldn't take it any longer, he stood, throwing his Carhartt jacket on and gathering his research- throwing it in his little leather notebook and snapping the rubber band securely around the book. He began slamming the books scattered on the bed around him and heard Dean say: "Come on, dude, shut up. Butch and Sundance are on!"

Sam knew he shouldn't be so childish, but he whipped around, meeting his brother's eye, and glared. Simply glared, at his brother.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asked, turning more so he could fully see his brother.

"Dean, we need to talk."

"We are talking, Sam. What's your deal?"

"Alone, Dean."

"No, dude. The movie's on," Dean said, pointing to the small screen. "Just say it."

"Dean…" Sam was quiet. He thought for a moment, not breaking the gaze with his brother and said: "'Jeesh, all Bolivia can't look like this.'"

"Dude, Sam. What the hell?"

"'My, we seem to be a little short on brotherly love around here...'" Sam said, grabbing his phone off the bedside table and starting out the door and into the chilly night…


End file.
